What Happens in Orlais
by BuriedBeneath
Summary: Stepping down from her rule as Viscountess of Kirkwall, Hawke leaves the Free Marches and embarks on a desperately needed vacation. Trouble, however, just has this way of finding her, and her peaceful vacation to Orlais turns out to be quite the opposite
1. Champion, Snarky Rogue, Dagger Admirer

_Author's Note:_

Hello folks! This here is a little continuation of a series of five vignettes (chapters 20-24) by the same name located in my larger collection called _Like a Hawke_. You don't necessarily have to read them to get the gist of the story here, as I'll outline the important parts. They're there if you want to read them, though, and they're filled with a generous portion of action, blood, and a touch of everyone's favourite Antivan elf. Feel free to go check it out if you so desire. Here's the ID if you don't feel like going to my page: 6848505

This is a slightly altered version of the Mark of the Assassin DLC. If you haven't played the DLC, and don't want anything spoiled, I'd suggest you not read this. Some things have been changed to fit with my Hawke's timeline, and this takes place a little later than it does in the game. However, most of the major events of the DLC will remain the same, so again, read at your own risk.

Enjoy,

BB

_Disclaimer: Tallis, Hawke, Fenris, and everything else here belongs to BioWare. Much as I might wish otherwise. I'm just playing with their toys._

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><p><strong><strong>Full Summary: <strong>**_After stepping down from her reign as Viscountess of Kirkwall, Hawke leaves the Free Marches altogether and embarks on a desperately needed vacation with her beloved. Trouble, however, just has this way of finding her, and their peaceful vacation to Orlais turns out to be quite the opposite._

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><p><strong>What Happens in Orlais<br>**Chapter One****

Daedra Hawke; Champion; former Viscountess; Snarky Rogue; Gratuitous Dagger Admirer

"Are you sure we're in the right place?" Hawke muttered, her hands held up to block the blare of the setting sun cutting into her eyes as she glanced over at him.

"Positive." He responded simply, looking carefully at the surroundings with a calculated eye. The glare of the sun didn't even seem to bother him.

"Here, let me see." She said, holding out an expectant hand to him as he placed a sheet of parchment in it. She knew full well it was useless for her to read. She had no knowledge of Val Royeaux or its layout. Fenris was the one with the expertise, as he'd come through the city frequently while in the possession of his old master, Danarius. She'd just wanted to be doing something to push down the anxiety creeping slowly, steadily up her spine. Giving it up as a lost cause, she sighed and handed it back to him, "You don't think he was lying, do you?"

"Daedra, you're the one who wanted to trust him, not me."

The assassin, Zevran, had intercepted an ambush just days earlier by Antivan Crows poised to take the Champion's life. He intervened just as one of them was about to cut her down while she assisted her poisoned mabari, effectively saving her life, and even went so far to offer her the antidote to the Crow poison that had been killing her dog.

After a short, informative conversation with the Crow leader, they'd learned the initiator of the assassination contract resided in Tevinter, and concluded that it would be suicide to enter the Imperium during the mage rebellion after so many mages had died at her hands (a fact that still haunted her to this day). When informed of this dilemma, Zevran had offered to take care of the problem as long as they took care of the reason he was asked to Orlais in the first place: to get in contact with another assassin who apparently needed his help.

As a result, she and Fenris stood there in the waning light, awaiting the assassin's arrival.

"Well, it's not like we had much of a choice, Fenris." Hawke responded with a shrug, "It was either that or risk suicide by going into Tevinter, where the majority of the mage rebellion has fled. We would have certainly walked into a trap."

Of course, that was the moment when a dagger shot across the clearing and stuck into the wall behind her with a dull _thunk_, just inches from her skull. Her heart leapt into her throat as she froze, her eyes wide as Fenris whipped around in the direction of the blade's origin, withdrawing the greatsword from his back.

Hawke, regaining her composure, turned to look at the blade, pulling it from the wall and examining it in her hands, testing its weight, "This is a _nice_ dagger."

"Thank you," came the reply. A female voice, originating from a rooftop nearby, "Champion."

She'd long since stopped being surprised when people knew who she was. Apparently, news of her existence had gotten around, thanks to a certain dwarf with a love of storytelling.

When they looked, the woman's figure was silhouetted by the setting sun, and it wasn't until she leapt nimbly onto an awning and down onto the ground in front of them, that they were able to see her features. Her hair was a similar shade of red as Hawke's and was pulled into a ponytail on the back of her head, revealing the clear points of her elven ears. She was small, even by elven standards. Most unusual, however, was the color of her eyes. Most elves in her experience, apart from Zevran, had green eyes. This woman's eyes were a pale blue, with flecks of... hazel? How odd.

"I take it you're Zevran's contact?"

Her eyebrow rose, "Zev sent you?"

"He did."

"Where is he?"

"At a tavern not far from here. He sent us in his place. You apparently already know who I am, so this is my companion Fenris." Hawke explained. Fenris, despite his misgivings about the situation, was silent, and simply nodded in the woman's direction.

"Why did he send you?" The woman's arms folded across her chest.

"Because we may be able to help you. If we help you in his place, he'll take care of a little _problem_ we have with the Crows."

"Well, I have to tell you, I think I received the better end of the bargain. Zev's good, but he's no Champion."

Hawke's shoulders lifted in a shrug, "Oh, I don't know. He seemed pretty excited to kill more Crows."

The elven woman chuckled, "That's not surprising."

"May I say that you certainly know how to make an entrance." Hawke said suddenly, flipping the woman's dagger in her hand by the blade and handing it back to her.

"I do try." She replied, sliding the blade into a sheath set on her back.

"Now, is there any reason in particular that you felt it necessary to hurl your dagger in my direction? Other than trying to kill me, of course."

"Please," the woman said with a scoff, "if I was trying to kill you, you'd be dead."

"You obviously don't know me very well," she replied, smiling wryly, "But, if your intent was to frighten me, I'll be honest with you. It worked. Briefly."

"Ah, so the famed Champion of Kirkwall _does_ feel fear."

Hawke breathed a quick laugh, "In spite of all the rumours going around, I _am_ only human."

"My name is Tallis." The woman said after a moment, introducing herself with a graceful bow, "And I would be happy to have your help, Champion—If you're willing to give it, that is."

"I wouldn't be here if I wasn't at least willing to give it some consideration." Hawke explained, "And honestly, I don't have a whole lot of choice in the matter. So what is it you need?"

"A—jewel." She responded, and while Hawke didn't show it, she noted the woman's hesitation, "Currently in the possession of one Duke Prosper, here in Orlais. Maybe you're familiar with him?"

"Oh yes," Hawke muttered with an agitated groan and a roll of her eyes, "I remember him well." She'd first met the man at the banquet held in her honour when she became Champion. Subsequently, when she became Viscountess, she was "advised" (forced) by the seneschal to hold an annual ball – one of the utterly few social functions she actively took part in, and only because she had to – to build report with the people. And every year, without fail, this Duke Prosper would practically hang on her arm, babbling on and on about some hunting expedition she simply _had_ to take part in. It was excruciating, and whenever she looked across the room to Fenris – posing as her bodyguard – her eyes pleading with him to remove her from the Duke's incessant prodding, he would simply stare at her with a bemused smile pulling his mouth to the side. _Damn blighted elf is enjoying this. If he weren't so bloody handsome when he smiled like that..._

"Perhaps you can ensure we get to take part in the hunt, then." Tallis said, pacing slowly, her hand raised to her chin in thought, "You are still the Champion, right?"

"Of course I am. Although, the thought of going on a hunt simply for sport does not really appeal to me. I've killed my fair share of crazed wildlife to know that it's generally better to _avoid _getting my face torn off by feral creatures of the wild."

"Are you sure you won't reconsider?" Tallis asked, "The Duke is a delightful host. Or, so I hear."

Running a hand through her hair as she thought for a moment, she sighed heavily, thinking of her options. _Well, it's either this or Tevinter. Or waiting for another ambush by the Crows, and honestly, we barely survived the last one._ "What is this jewel you're looking for?"

"The Duke thinks it's valuable—and it is—just not in the way he believes. I need to relieve him of it. And... I can't do it alone."

"You want me to _steal_ from an Orlesian duke?" Hawke asked, an incredulous eyebrow cocked up her forehead.

She shrugged, "This is why I wanted Zevran's help. He has... a lot less morality to hold him back. But, from what I hear, you get things done."

Hawke's arms folded across her chest, her eyes narrowing on the woman, "And you really think that's enough to make me steal from a man whose only problem was being _too_ annoyingly friendly?"

"He shouldn't even have the jewel in the first place." The elven woman argued, stopping for a moment, before lifting her head to face her again, "He, who wishes to walk on water, must first learn to swim."

Hawke wasn't sure what that proverb had to do with the situation, but couldn't help seeing the truth in the words. There was something distinctly unique about it, as well as the elf who had just said it to her.

"It's called The Heart of the Many." Tallis continued, "The jewel, that is."

"Interesting name."

"Interesting jewel. The only thing I care about is getting it away from the Duke. Here's the problem: The Heart is in a vault, behind who knows what kind of traps, protected by an army of Orlesian chevaliers, all inside a fortress that was designed to be impregnable. And, let's not forget:" The elven woman added, "It's on the side of a mountain, in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by monsters."

"Oh, why am I not surprised?" Hawke muttered, massaging her temples with her thumb and forefinger, looking over to Fenris, who just stared at her, "Oh don't give me that look. That's the _I-told-you-so_ look. I hate that look."

"If you're not up for it," Tallis said with a shrug, "it's fine. I can track down Zev again."

"No," the Champion said, sighing, "It's either this or walking into a trap in Tevinter. This is the lesser of two evils, as far as I'm concerned. Besides, I'm a rogue. I can sneak into the vault. I'm good at sneaking."

Fenris simply shook his head, rolling his eyes in exasperation.

"Let's hope. Just come with me to Chateau Haine. If nothing else, you get fine wine, and fancy company."

Hawke grimaced, "Oh, _joy of joys_."


	2. Idealist, and Keeper of Secrets

_Author's Note_

Herro! It's been a while. So, I finished school for the summer, flew across the country, and got a summer job. And it's a job where the amount of work-related work that I actually _do_ is far outweighed by the amount of time I spend sitting at my desk doing absolutely _nothing_. Not that I'm complaining. So, I've been doing a _lot _of writing. You'll probably see a fair bit of updating over the next little while, unless I suddenly get bombarded with work. Which is also possible, as it's still a pretty new job, and I'm still learning the ropes.

Until then, here's chapter 2 of my MoTA fic. Lots of dialogue here, but I'll be getting down to business in the next chapter, so bear with me. I always found it weird that if you take Fenris with you to Orlais in the game, he has nothing to say about the Qunari aspect of the DLC. You'd think he'd have a bit more insight regarding Tallis, knowing what he does about how the Qunari work. I understand that's the limitations of the DLC story, but this is fanfiction, damn it! I will have my cake and eat it too!

Heh. Enjoy,

- BB

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><p><strong>What Happens in Orlais<br>Chapter Two**

Tallis; Idealist, and Keeper of Secrets

"I don't buy it." Hawke muttered, pacing the length of the room she shared with Fenris that they'd rented for the night on their way to Chateau Haine. Tallis had rented the room across the hall, allowing them the privacy they would surely be lacking for the next few days, until they returned to Val Royeaux, though Hawke suspected something else was afoot, "An elven assassin comes out of nowhere to break into some Orlesian noble's home to steal a jewel that's not even valuable. Why?"

"She's hiding something from you." Fenris said from his position against the wall, overlooking the street through the window, surveying the surroundings.

"Well that much is obvious." She shrugged, "We're in Orlais; even their _dogs _have secrets."

"She is Qunari."

Hawke nodded, having suspected as much, "Her name sounds distinctly so, and that proverb she said when we first met her sent up a red flag. But why is she here, stealing a jewel from some Orlesian noble? She's an assassin, not a thief."

"Not exactly," Fenris argued, pushing off from the wall with a shake of his head, "The Antivan called her an assassin, but her rank is Tallis, which means '_to solve'._"

"So… she's here to solve a problem for the Qunari?"

"That generally does mean assassinations, but not exclusively."

"But the question remains of how this jewel we're supposed to steal ended up in Prosper's hands."

His brows furrowed in consternation and he folded his arms across his chest, "You've heard of the _Ben-Hassrath_?"

"I've heard you mention it." She replied, nodding.

"The literal translation of _Ben-Hassrath_ is '_heart of the many'_." He explained, "The _Ben-Hassrath_ are an order of priests within the Qunari, and the enforcers of religious law."

She once again found herself immeasurably thankful that her lover was an expert in all things Qunari, and that he was with her right now. She would never be able to figure this all out if he wasn't around. Though, they'd been practically inseparable since they returned to each other nearly four years prior. Even when she'd taken the Viscount's throne, he was never far away, watching from the shadows to ensure she was safe. And she did feel safe. She knew an assassin unhappy with her rule or the decisions she'd made during that final battle in Kirkwall would never succeed in injuring her as long as Fenris was watching her back. There was no one she trusted more to keep her safe.

"Not a jewel, then." She shook her head, confusion clouding her features, "But if names are useless to the Qunari, and rank is what matters, why _name_ a gem after a rank? If this jewel actually exists, what's so special about it?"

"This jewel—if it is, in fact, a jewel—must mean something to the Qunari for them to send her here after it." He shrugged, "I am no Qunari, but I have never heard of such a jewel."

She sighed, approaching Fenris with her arms crossed over her chest, "This isn't making any sense. The amount of answers we've discerned from what she's told us has only raised more questions."

"Then we're in agreement." Her lover added, looking squarely at her, knowing her tendency to see the best in people, and the speed with which she placed her faith in others, "She is not to be trusted."

Hawke hesitated for a moment before finally nodding the affirmative.

Chateau Haine was the epitome of extravagance. Built solidly into the side of a mountain with sprawling archways and golden lion statues mounted on the rooftops, and Duke Prosper's yellow banner dangling from the walls at regular intervals, it was the very picture of Orlesian architecture.

Upon her approach, Prosper was standing outside speaking with another hunter, but his guard, a angry-looking Chasind man (though _angry _seemed to be their constant state of mind) stopped her before she could get close.

She simply looked at him, her eyebrow raised upwards on her forehead, "A fine day for a hunt, isn't it? Very... outdoorsy."

The guard's eyes narrowed on her, but Prosper noticed the commotion and instantly recognized her, stepping up to meet her with a wide smile and his hands spread wide in a welcoming gesture, "The Champion of Kirkwall! What a surprise!"

Hawke gave him a friendly nod, plastering a smile on her face to mask her disgust with the situation. Maker, she didn't belong here. She hated hunting. Almost as much as she hated making nice with the nobility. Leave it to fate to make her do both at once, "Duke Prosper. It has been some time."

"Indeed it has, my dear Champion." He responded in accented Fereldan, linking her arm through his and leading her back to the camp, and her discomfort rose to unprecedented proportions with the physical contact, "Not that I'm not thrilled you're here, but I was always under the impression you were never interested in my annual wyvern hunt."

_Huh. And I thought I was a __**good **__liar. Think like a noble. Grace. Poise. Everything that you're __**not**__. Remember what Mother always tried to teach you... and no, that doesn't include drawing your dagger and impaling him with it._

It had been quite a while since Hawke was at all concerned about leaving a good impression on the nobility. She had to get back into the run of things, and it would be a few hours before she was even the slightest bit comfortable in their presence. She was drawn like a taut bow, so she forced herself to relax once she noticed Fenris watching her, that damnable smirk on his face as she let out a breath and gave the Duke another too-happy grin, "Oh don't be ridiculous. It's a favorite pastime of mine to find things and kill them, actually."

She heard something that sounded suspiciously like a stifled, familiar, rumbling laugh from behind her, but when she glanced backwards with a murderous glare, Fenris' face was perfectly neutral. _Damn that elf._

Facing Prosper again, she looked apologetic, "I hope you don't mind me stopping by. I was in the area, and happened to remember your annual invitation. I thought I'd take you up on it, if it was not too much to ask."

"No, no of course not! You're welcome to join us!" He withdrew from her and she let out a slight sigh of relief as he turned to her companions and looked at Tallis, "And who is this lovely specimen?"

"You flatter me, Your Grace." The elven woman responded.

Hawke had to actively stop herself from rolling her eyes, but had much more trouble stopping the heat from flaring up her neck when he looked at Fenris and said, "And I see you've brought a manservant to assist you. I do hope his skill is as deadly as that sword appears to be."

Had Prosper been looking at her, he would have seen her hands curl into fists, her eyes narrow ferociously, and her shoulders draw up in fury, but one glance from Fenris and a nearly imperceptible shake of his head made her back down with no shortage of effort on her part, "Oh, you have nothing to worry about. He gives me a run for my money."

"Do remind me not to get on your bad side, then." Prosper added with a grin, "Lest you sic him on your enemies." Hawke noticed Fenris' jaw tighten as the only sign of his annoyance.

_Oh, that was the __**wrong **__thing to say. _"I'd be much more worried of getting on _his _bad side. He chooses his own enemies."

_Don't even go there, you racist Orlesian bastard._

He looked at the elf again, sizing him up, and Hawke could see by the tightness of his shoulders that Fenris was holding himself back only by the grace of the Maker. She understood that well; her fingers twitched with the desire to tear the man apart with her bare hands.

Fortunately, it didn't come to that. Although he didn't seem threatened, The Duke had nothing to say in return before looking down to see her hound, "Ah, and a loyal mabari." Prosper said, stooping down to be eye-level with the beast, "The trademark of Ferelden, and a noble beast."

The dog growled deep in his throat, baring his sharp teeth at the man with his hackles raised, but as much as Hawke wanted to reward the dog for his actions, they were here for a reason, and she couldn't blow it now. So, she took a page from Fenris' book and shook her head, "Alden, heel."

He stopped immediately, turning his big brown doggy eyes up to her face as if he was well aware of her true feelings towards this man, and wasn't expecting her reaction. She gave him a sympathetic look behind Prosper's back as the man turned again and led them into the courtyard, "This is your first time here, so feel free to speak to the other hunters if you have questions. The rules of the hunt are simple. First to bring back the carcass of a wyvern gets the banquet thrown in their honor tonight. As well as bragging rights, of course."

Hawke watched Fenris let out a heavy sigh as Prosper dismissed them and they made their way into the hunting grounds, rolling his shoulders and letting himself relax, "_'Manservant'_," he muttered, disgust evident in his voice.

"Well, I was perfectly willing to pummel him senseless," Hawke said, shrugging, "But you said no."

"It seemed like a good idea at the time." He responded, "But then he kept speaking."

"Apparently his prejudice is only towards elves of the _male _variety, as the way he treated Tallis was perfectly respectable."

"For now." The woman in question added, "Get me alone, and he'd probably see me as nothing more than an elven plaything."

"You sound like you're speaking from experience." Hawke said, unsure if she wished to hear the answer.

"Not just me. Ask any elven woman how they're treated behind closed doors by men who appear to be gentlemen. The stories you'd hear could give you nightmares."

Hawke sighed, "Sometimes, it seems like humans will never get past our prejudices. It's no wonder the Dalish treat us with such hostility."

"But it isn't just humans." Tallis argued, "They're the majority, yes. But as with any race, there will always be disgusting people, willing to take advantage of others, regardless of where they came from. Women like you and I, who can handle ourselves? They never see us coming, and when they do, they regret it. That's how we overcome prejudice. By learning to respect ourselves. Surprising people, and demanding their respect. Because if we can't respect ourselves, who will?"

Hawke smiled at her, finding a kindred spirit in the small fiery woman who was as skilled with words and performance as she was with her daggers. Despite her reservations about the woman, she was slowly starting to see her as more of a friend than a possible adversary she was allying with simply because she had little other choice.

"The banquet. That's our way in." Tallis said, getting them back on track, "We don't have to win the hunt, but it would gain you some respect with the nobility after being gone for a year."

Hawke faced her, "Tallis, look at me. Do I look like I care about getting respect from the _nobility_? Besides, wouldn't it be easier to sneak into the chateau if I don't draw attention to myself?"

"Hawke, I have known you for almost thirteen years." Fenris muttered from behind her, incredulous, "Unless you're in battle, it is impossible for you to avoid drawing attention to yourself, and you never back down from a challenge."

She simply glowered at him, "This is different. Up to the battle with the Arishok, I was _trying _to make myself known. I was trying to establish a respectable name for my family, and to keep them safe, but after they all died, I just didn't really see the point anymore. Why do you think I left? I didn't _want _to become Champion. I didn't _want _to become Viscountess. I didn't want any of the pomp and glory. My departure from Kirkwall was sorely overdue."

"Well for someone who doesn't like the spotlight, you really seem to have a knack for getting stuck in it." Tallis said, her lips pulling to the side in a smirk.

Hawke groaned, "_Tell_ me about it."

"So… are we aiming to win this thing?" Tallis asked after a moment, back to business.

"Well, I didn't just come out here to sit on my ass all day." Hawke muttered, "Let's just see what we find out here."

They had barely taken two steps, when a male voice interrupted, bellowing from across the clearing in barely comprehensible Fereldan, "I've hearrrrrd of you, Ferheldahn." They all turned to see a middle-aged man with dark hair and a pinched face stalking up to meet them and looking at her like she had five heads. Hawke almost strained herself trying to understand him, and she couldn't stop the eyebrow that lifted nearly to her hairline when he said, "You are supposed to be a Champion of some backwatherr city in the Free Marches."

"Champion, _and _former Viscountess." She added, and Fenris looked at her. He knew the only time she bothered with her former title was when she was in the presence of someone she knew she didn't like and wanted to subtly make them aware of her capabilities. Never mind the fact that the title didn't carry quite so much weight now that _former _was added to it, but it still served a purpose, "And it might be a backwater city, but it's _my _backwater city."

"Obviously." He replied, his mouth turning down in disgust, "I can't imagine any other type of city that would vote a _Fehreldahn _into power."

"What can I say?" She responded, shrugging, "People just love me."

"I don't know what makes you think you can mingle with your betters, but I certainly won't be happy to share the hunting grounds with some _Ferheldahn tuhrneep_."

"I suppose what you're _so desperately trying_ to call me is a _turnip_, correct? Referring to how I apparently fell off the turnip cart?" She asked, her mouth cracking into a wry grin, "Oh ho, that's funny. I'll tell you what: How about you stay on your side of the hunting grounds, and I'll stay on mine? There, problem solved!"

She pushed past him, but he stopped her with a breath of laughter, and a quip that was perfectly understandable even with his accent, "A Fereldan turnip, elven _trash _and a dog, making nice with higher beings. Unbelievable."

Her eyes narrowed. She knew he was baiting her, trying to rile her up, and Maker, it was working. But she was already annoyed by her earlier conversation with the Duke, and she wasn't a Viscountess anymore, and they weren't inside the Chateau, where the desire to appear proper, and collected outweighed any hostility. They were in the middle of nowhere, in the wilderness, and the only thing resembling nobility was the animal kingdom. Who was she trying to please? Suddenly her desire to _make nice _with the nobility had vanished altogether as she whirled back to face him with a wide grin, "Well, you've awakened my competitive streak. Let's just see how unbelievable it is when your prize gets pulled out from under you by a collection of elven _trash_, a dog, and a _Ferheldahn _who fell off the turnip cart."

A snicker that she assumed was Tallis came from over her shoulder at her exaggerated impersonation of his accent, but she ignored it. Hawke was certain her companions could practically _see _the waves of anger radiating from her as she turned and stalked off into the clearing without anything further passing between her and the rude hunter.

_Not even an hour into the hunt, and my impression of Orlesians has already plummeted into the ground._

"Five sovereigns says she aims to take back the biggest wyvern out there today." Tallis mumbled, leaning in towards Fenris.

"Six says they both get one, but she still wins," Fenris countered.

Hawke shot a look over her shoulder, glaring at Fenris, who was staring at Tallis, an eyebrow raised upwards on his forehead, "I may be human, but I _can _still hear you, you know."

A moment of silence passed before Tallis said, "I'll take that bet."

Hawke rolled her eyes, "Is this what you were doing all those times I took Varric with us, Fenris? Maker, it's no wonder you were always short on money."

"I didn't _always _lose."

"I find that difficult to believe."

"Sometimes Isabela did."

Hawke's hand lifted to her forehead, massaging her temples with her thumb and forefinger, "Maker, kill me now."


	3. Performance

_Author's Note:_

The confrontation with Arlange has been slightly altered here to fit with Hawke's temper and give Tallis a more active role as the flawless performer and peace-keeper she undoubtedly is. Hope you enjoy it. Thanks for all the reviews and alerts! You're all amazing. :)

- BB

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><p><strong>What Happens in Orlais<br>****Chapter Three**

Performance

Finding and baiting the wyvern was a long and convoluted process that, save for Hawke shoving her arms into a pile of wyvern excrement up to her elbows to look for clues (which _of course _her two elven companions had to make a smart comment about) was exceedingly uneventful. Fenris had jokingly told her that unless she bathed first, she was sleeping on the floor that night, and honestly, though she'd immediately dunked her arms into a nearby stream and drenched herself up to her shoulders, she couldn't blame him. She was worried she would never get the smell out of her armour.

The whole ordeal was just one of those things the former Viscountess would never, never live down.

It wasn't much later that they found the clearing where a wyvern encounter seemed most likely. Hawke met Tallis in the middle of the clearing while Fenris kept a vigilant watch on the area.

"So, how do you wanna do this?" Tallis asked her.

"Well, I'm pretty sure we have more than enough bait to attract a wyvern."

"Yeah, we need to be careful not to use too much. If we use it all, it might bring us something that's too much to handle." Tallis agreed, but then her mouth cracked into a grin, and it was obvious what thoughts were going through her head, "But it sure would be _fun_."

"So, what you're asking me is," Hawke added, her eyebrow arched inquisitively, "Do we want to succeed? Or do we want to _win_?"

Tallis smiled at her again, and Hawke fell silent for a moment, her mind drifting back to the Orlesian bastard she'd met a few hours prior. She didn't even know his name, but the thought of letting that man win the hunt set every nerve in her body suddenly on fire with rage. Fenris must have known what was going through her head, because he was instantly beside her, his hand on her elbow, side-eyeing her.

"Hawke…" he warned.

"Fenris, wasn't it you who wagered that I would kill the biggest wyvern out here today? Well, it's no wonder you lost your bets all the time." She muttered to herself, "Especially if they were on me doing the smart thing, versus me doing the stupidly _fun _thing."

"How are you not _dead_ yet?" Tallis asked her, shaking her head.

Hawke shrugged at her, "I ask myself that every day, actually."

"As do I." Fenris grumbled.

Hawke simply grinned and turned to the elven woman, "Put it all out. Let's being Prosper a trophy to brag about."

"Yes!"

If Hawke's thing-she-would-never-live-down was her up-close and personal encounter with a pile of wyvern shit, Tallis, the fiery red-headed elf who could kill you from a thousand paces with a knife between the eyes, prancing up and down the clearing covered in animal blood and doing a _somewhat _accurate imitation of a wyvern's mating call was a sight Hawke would never, _never _let the woman forget. She couldn't stop the chuckles that escaped as she drew her daggers in preparation for the crazed animal that was sure to appear after that _flawless _performance, and she even heard Fenris let out an amused breath of air behind her as his sword was pulled from the sheath at his back.

The feral growl that came out of the woods as Tallis settled by the edge of the clearing to watch, was entirely sobering, however. Whatever had made that noise was _big_.

Narrowing her eyes on the space before Tallis, Hawke brought her mind into focus, and allowed the adrenaline to flow.

A massive winged, scaly, lizard… thing leapt forward out of the woods, landing its huge paws on to the ground with four successive _thumps, _narrowly missing Tallis as she rolled out of the way, and Hawke was stuck by just how huge and _ugly _this thing was. When it turned on her and Fenris, spitting a wad of venomous saliva directly for them, they jumped in opposite directions to escape the residual splash, Hawke rolling to a kneeling stance, and Fenris popping back up to his feet, cursing bitterly in Arcanum.

"Take out the wings, first!" Tallis shouted across the battlefield.

Pushing herself back up to her feet, Hawke approached the creature warily, trying to get within a close enough distance for her daggers to be of any use to her, while Fenris made a leap directly into its left flank, and Alden attacked its left hind leg. Now that it was distracted, Hawke and Tallis used the opportunity to roll around and hack at its right side, leaping upwards and stabbing their blades into the wing membrane, using their body weight to pull the blades down and sever the membrane beyond any hope of functionality.

Fenris was right. She had no idea what she was getting into. The creature let out a deafening screech that had them all covering their ears (except for Fenris—poor man had his hands occupied with that massive sword of his) and practically paralyzed in auditory agony at such close quarters. Something collided with her side, hard, in the reprieve, and she suddenly found herself in mid-air, slamming into the ground at least ten feet away and rolling several more before finally coming to a stop. Burning pain flared into her right shoulder.

She grunted, trying to regain the air that had promptly vacated her lungs with the impact, and rolled onto her stomach, _Oh, sweet Maker that hurt._ Pushing herself up on her elbows (and favouring her right arm), she struggled to get one foot beneath her again.

Somewhere in the direction of the commotion was the distinct sound of a heavy foot (paw? claw?) scuffing against the ground.

"Daedra!" Fenris shouted.

The urgency in his voice (and his use of her first name—the name he only used with her in private) had her pushing herself faster than her body would allow without screaming its protests. She stumbled clumsily to her feet, looking for her daggers, shaking her head as her blurred vision finally began to clear.

Only to come face-to-face with a thousand-pound, bloodthirsty beast charging directly for her.

_Oh, shit!_

She forced herself into a roll directly to her left in an attempt to escape the wyvern's path, but then Tallis was there, running head-on to the charging beast with a determined set to her shoulders. Just as the creature was about to devour her, the elf pivoted to the side, digging one of her daggers into its flank and using the wyvern's momentum to fling herself bodily up onto its back.

The beast roared and screeched, but the elf held fast, one hand on her dagger, the other clamped onto the scaled projections off the wyvern's jaw, her small size and agility working in her favour.

Hawke and Fenris immediately jumped back into the fray, hoping to distract the beast long enough for Tallis to kill it, and their efforts proved successful when it reared up in anger, and Tallis got her feet planted on its lower back, finding a good enough foundation to boost herself up and wrap her legs around the creature's neck. Her hand let go of her dagger, and found purchase along the scaled protrusion along the top of its head, swinging herself down as the wyvern landed again and pulling the remaining dagger from her back. It took only a split second for her to have that dagger buried straight through the wyvern's eye socket and into its brain.

With one last howl of agony, the wyvern reared wildly up again, before collapsing on the ground in a heap with a massive billow of dust.

Exhausted, Tallis let go of her perch and rolled off the creature's back to lay flat on the ground, blowing out her cheeks in a sigh.

"Well," Hawke said airily, approaching the woman, her hand clutching at the dull ache in her shoulder as she settled down on the ground beside her, "That was… interesting."

She took a moment to survey their status. Other than what she assumed was a badly bruised shoulder, she was fine, and truly, she'd had much worse. She could see Alden off at the edge of the clearing licking blood from his fur. He seemed no worse for wear, from what she could see, so she assumed most of the blood wasn't his for the moment. Fenris seemed alright, save for the typical cuts and bruises that always came with a fight like this—he seemed more worried about her, honestly. Tallis, though completely exhausted, was fine, lying on the ground beside her with a forearm covering her eyes from the sun as she caught her breath.

"'_Interesting'_ is not the word I would use to describe it." Fenris muttered, glowering down at the two rogues, "Do you have a death wish?"

"Oh, don't be such a killjoy." Tallis sighed, and though her eyes were covered, Hawke imagined them rolling in exasperation, "Hawke, how do you put up with this all the time?"

"You get used to it," she replied, leaning back on the palms of her hands and meeting Fenris' eyes with a playful grin, "Besides, it's fun to tease him_._"

He simply glared at her for a moment before whirling away from them to clean his sword, "_Festis bei umo canavarum."_

"Honestly," Hawke added after he'd gone, staring fondly at his back, "I wonder much more often how he puts up with _me._ I make stupid decisions like this on a fairly regular basis."

"You did decide to duel the Arishok." Tallis said, agreeing.

"Yes, well, believe it or not, that was _his _idea."

"Fenris'?" Tallis lifted her arm, opening one eye to stare at her in disbelief, "That seems unlikely."

"Well, the situation didn't offer much of an alternative at the time." Hawke explained, pausing for a moment to think back on that life-changing day and shuddering with the memory of the Arishok's blade slicing mercilessly into her gut before pushing the thought from her mind again. "It was the most difficult battle I've ever fought, and I don't think I've ever come so close to death. But during my recovery, I had quite a bit of free time that was spent replaying the events leading up to it, and the possible outcomes. If I didn't duel him, his men would have attacked us, and put all of the innocent people in the Keep at risk. I would never have forgiven myself if someone died there, knowing that I could have prevented it. So it wasn't the safest choice, but it was the right one. That battle made me a Champion, and I wouldn't be much of a Champion if I didn't put my life on the line to protect the city."

Looking up to stare at Fenris as he pulled a rag from his pack and started wiping blood from his blade, she continued, "Doesn't make it any easier for him to forgive himself, though."

They fell silent, and Hawke was still looking when he glanced up and saw her, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards in a barely noticeable smirk despite his frustrations. Before their trip to Orlais, it had been a while since they'd both been involved in a real battle, after all. There was a thrill in both of them that only the high of battle could satisfy, and some (Varric) would likely say it was the reason they still traveled, rather than settle down somewhere. She eagerly returned the smile. It was an old dance, this argument, and a constant battle between them, but one that was easily overshadowed after all this time by their care for one another.

"He really loves you." Tallis observed, and Hawke realized that she'd noticed their private little exchange.

Hawke stared at the woman for a moment, but saw only curiosity in her oddly blue eyes. Looking back at Fenris, whose attention was focused back down on the blade again, she nodded, "And I him. I don't want to think about where I'd be without him." She said, shrugging, "Probably dead a thousand times over."

"Well, if it isn't the _Ferheldhan turhneep._" An achingly familiar voice bellowed from across the clearing, and all eyes drew to the hunter from earlier, who was stepping over the crest of the hill with a series of huntsmen in tow.

Fenris was already on his feet and making his way over to stand beside her as they got up, his brows drawn down over his eyes in a murderous scowl.

"I suggest you run along with your servants, while you have zee chance." He continued, "This wyvern was mine to kill. Mine, mine! Mine! I paid good coin to be zee one who weens zees contest. It was _my turn_!"

Hawke looked back at her _'servants'_, with her eyebrow cocked upwards on her forehead. Alden was at her side in seconds, growling venomously at the man as she turned forwards again to face him, "Oh, I didn't realize the Duke was offering charity to his more _useless _guests. My mistake." Shrugging, she took a step forward, "You know, it's a little unsettling when a grown man has a toddler-tantrum because he's lost a hunting expedition."

The man's fast pinched even tighter into a rather humorous scowl, "I will not accept such talk from a backwatherrrr _mongrel_!"

"Oh, so you've moved on from the turnip cart comments to dog comparisons now, have you? Nice to see Fereldan's _rich _history is taught so thoroughly here in Orlais."

"You do realize this woman has nasty little thugs like you for breakfast, I hope?" Tallis chimed in.

Narrowing her gaze to an outright sneer, Hawke glared at the Orlesian with venom dripping from her words, "_Only_ when we're out of pancakes."

That earned an amused snort from the elven woman, and she got no shortage of pleasure from the exasperated shake of Fenris' head she noticed out of the corner of her eye.

"_More _insolence!" The hunter shouted in disbelief, "From a _knife-ear,_ zees time!"

_I wonder: is racism a legitimate enough reason to kill someone?_

"I can take no more of zees!" The man sighed, throwing his hands out dramatically, "Kill them all! We can say the wyvern was too much for zem!"

_Well, doesn't matter now_, Hawke mentally answered herself with a shrug as she pulled the daggers from their sheaths on her back, surveying the size and scope of the group as the three of them (plus Alden) spread out.

An arrow stuck into the grass by her feet just as she swung around a short man that had been approaching her and swiped her dagger across his throat, "Tallis, Alden! Take out the archers!"

She watched Alden bolt up onto the high ground and Tallis pulled two throwing knives from somewhere hidden in her armour. Satisfied, she turned to Fenris, moving closer to him, "I'm going after the leader. Keep them off me."

"With the utmost pleasure." He responded with a feral smile that nearly made her knees weak as he drove his foot into the gut of a man approaching him, slicing clean through his armour with his greatsword when the man stumbled backwards.

For his part, the leader was a formidable opponent, but she'd fought the damn _Arishok_, and _won_. Granted, the Arishok had nearly killed her in the process, but this man lacked his muscle. And his weapons. And his skill. And sure, maybe she was being proud, but this man had insulted her and her companions enough. It was time he learned just how much of a _mongrel _she could be.

He jabbed at her with a dagger, testing her ability as she did the same. His face pinched into an expression he must have thought was a brutal and contemptuous sneer. To her, he just looked constipated, and it added to her amusement as she danced around his attacks, reciprocating with her own. He dodged them, but only just, until she finally decided to get serious. She feigned left and swung around him, kicking out the back of his knee and pushing him to the ground, an arm around his shoulders and her dagger at his throat. He fell silent, watching his men fall to her two _servants_ and her _dog_, one. by. one.

"Look at this! Beaten by a _Ferheldan tuhrneep_! Will wonders never cease? They didn't vote me Champion of Kirkwall for my sunny disposition or my dashing good looks." She hissed, "_Yield._"

"I yield." The hunter sighed begrudgingly, and called off the attack, "You ween."

Grinning, she pushed him away and rose to her feet again, "So _glad _we could come to an understanding."

Just as she was sheathing her daggers again, Duke Prosper crested the hill and made his way into the clearing, "What is the meaning of this?"

The hunter was on his feet, and ambling toward the Duke, "Prosper! Zees blasted she-bitch tried to steal my rightful kill!"

She watched Fenris glare at him out of the corner of her eye while she folded her arms across her chest and shrugged, seemingly unfazed, "Aren't all bitches _she_'s?" _He is already making me regret not killing him. _

The Duke turned to her as her companions came up behind her, "Is this true, Champion?"

"Of course not!" She protested, an eyebrow lifted in confusion, "I have a mabari wardog, a rogue with master aim, and a warrior that can pull a man's heart out with his bare hands as traveling companions. Not to mention the fact that I killed the Qunari Arishok in single combat. Tell me: _Why _would I need to cheat?"

"A very good question, Arlange." Prosper responded, turning to the hunter, "Why _would _she need to cheat?"

"B-because—she—" the hunter (whose name was apparently Arlange) stammered, pointing wildly at her, "—she is a lazy backwatherr _mongrel_ who would rather steal my prize from me than catch her own!"

"_Lazy mongrel!_" Hawke laughed in his face.

Alden growled at him, and Hawke gave him an exaggerated gasp, hands placed on her chest in feigned appal, "My dog resents that remark!"

"See?" The man asked of Prosper, "Such _insolence _from a worthless _Ferheldan!_"

"Have a care for what you say," Fenris grumbled, stepping closer to her, clearly growing angrier with every word out of this Orlesian's mouth against her. When Fenris' patience grew thin, there was _definitely _a problem. The elf's words were kind, but there was a clear threat brewing just beneath the surface that she would have advised against pressing.

She didn't get a chance, however, because he stepped forward and made a sharp cutting motion with his hand, "_Silence_, knife-ear! Your mistress should punish you for such insubordination!"

"_Mistress?_" Hawke's eyes widened to saucers, and her light-hearted demeanour vanished as her shoulders drew up in riotous anger.

"Hawke…" Fenris warned quietly, but she couldn't hear him over the blood pounding in her ears.

"_Insub_—Oh, that is _it_!" Hawke screamed, spitting holy fire as she lunged forwards. She would have tackled the man bodily to the ground in her rage, but Fenris' arms around her waist held her back as the man jumped backwards, cowering in fear, "Say what you want about me, but I have had _enough _of your racist comments about my companions!"

"Do you see, Prosper?" The hunter gestured wildly at her as Fenris struggled to calm her down, "Zees woman is a beast! A wild _Fehreldan dog_! I demand you expel her from the expedition at once!"

"Oh, do _shut_ _up_!" Hawke rolled her eyes, facing him again after finally managing to restrain and (mostly) compose herself (with no shortage of effort on Fenris' part either), "_You _ambushed _us_ after we killed this thing, before we even had a chance to catch our breath!"

"Enough of this!" Prosper's authoritative voice cut into their argument like a blade and silence hovered in the air for a moment.

"Your Grace," Tallis' voice was soft and soothing as she took two small steps forward, smoothing out the tension in the air like one might calm a terrified cat. The lack of her voice up to this point had made it that much more striking when she chimed into the discussion now.

Prosper simply looked at her, so she took that as her cue to take another step forward, "Please excuse us. The Champion is telling the truth, however the battle has left her weary and quick to anger. I'm sure she'll be much better at the banquet tonight… if she is still invited, that is."

The Duke let out a sigh before nodding graciously to the elven woman and taking her hand in his, brushing his lips gently across her knuckles. Hawke was too busy being awed by Tallis' skill at performance to be disgusted by the way he not-so-subtly leered at the woman.

"Of course, of course." Prosper said as he dropped her hand, "Arlange has always been a cheat, and is known for his less-than-honourable attempts at getting ahead."

"What?" The hunter sputtered, "Zees is an outrage! You're not going to let zees kni—" He stopped half-way through the word when he noticed Hawke glaring daggers at him, "—_woman_ charm you, are you? Your mother would be ashamed!"

Prosper breathed a chuckle, "Says the man whose mother has slept with half of Val Chevin." He turned to Hawke, "Congratulations, Champion. You have the honour of first kill today, and it is a fine prize indeed. You should be proud. Now, Arlange is a liar and a cheat who tried to kill you. What would you have me do with him?"

"You're not suggesting…" Tallis trailed off, shaking her head in confusion.

"Why not? You believe Arlange would have stopped short of murder, given the chance?"

Hawke looked curiously at Tallis, although her mind was already made up.

"He can't be any more than he is." The elf said to her by way of explanation, "You've bested him. Just let him go."

Hawke shrugged, and turned back to the Duke, "His blood smells worse than the wyvern's. Best leave it where it is. Besides, I doubt anyone would really miss him, but killing him would be a waste of energy. And I'm already _oh so tired_." Sighing dramatically, she lifted the back of her hand to meet her forehead and swooned, falling sideways into Fenris' arms as he caught her against his chest with a bemused smirk and a slight shake of his head. She winked as she looked up at him and whispered, "Am I _Orlesian_ yet?"

His only response was a quiet breath of laughter and that slight quirk of his lips.

She stayed like that for a moment, just enjoying the feel of being in his arms (even if it was a little awkward with her leaning on such an odd angle) before pushing herself upright again and glaring at the hunter, "But if you so much as _breathe _on my companions, I'll know about it. And I swear I'll make you wish I'd killed you when I had the chance."

The hunter stumbled to his feet, harrumphed, snapped his fingers as his remaining hunstmen rejoined him, and stalked off into the woods.


End file.
